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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28091787">Ink and Other Stains on a Page</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold'>Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Twelve Days of DA Dwarves 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multi, NSFW Art, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Solas has a dwarf kink in this universe don't at me, Vaginal Sex, and Varric and Maria have a problematic elf boyfriend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:09:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28091787</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric and Maria really only got up to shenanigans at Solas' office because they both kind of missed him. A little. Not that they'll admit it. </p><p>And Solas won't admit he's more aroused and amused than annoyed. But he's certainly got some creative ideas for revenge.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Cadash/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Cadash/Solas/Varric Tethras, Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor/Solas/Varric Tethras, Female Inquisitor/Varric Tethras</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Twelve Days of DA Dwarves 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Spilled Ink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for the <a href="https://twelve-days-of-da-dwarves.tumblr.com/">Twelve Days of DA Dwarves</a> Prompt List! Prompt #5: Not a creature was stirring, not even a nug. </p><p>Also the beautiful art that goes with this is from <a href="https://tightassets.tumblr.com/">@tightassets</a> who is AMAZING. Thank you friend &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Maria Cadash tries to pinpoint where, exactly, it all went wrong.</p><p>Falling asleep in the war room waiting for reports isn’t her finest moment. Waking up with her face buried in Cullen’s stupid mantle and finding Josephine drooling on her while Leliana studies maps in careful silence…</p><p>Well. That’s just icing on the cake.</p><p>“Still nothing to report,” Leliana murmurs while Maria works on untangling herself from Josie’s poofy skirt and Cullen’s ratty cape. “Our agents could have been delayed.”</p><p>“Could be dead,” Maria snaps.</p><p>“Perhaps.” Leliana doesn’t sound bothered, and that makes Maria want to scream. Instead she pushes her hair from her face and stands from the sofa.</p><p>Leliana’s eyes swing to her. She can feel the way she’s being weighed and half suspects the spy master is about to find her wanting. <em>Again.</em> “If you wish to go to bed, I will alert you when our agents return.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Maria growls, smoothing her hands down her thighs. “I’m going to grab some of the notes Solas left when he snuck off to those blighted ruins with Dorian. May as well get some sodding work done.”</p><p>“As you wish, Inquisitor,” Leliana replies smoothly. “I’ll await your return.”</p><p>Maria tosses a lazy, disrespectful salute in Leliana’s direction before she books it for the door. As soon as she throws it open, the sudden taste of fresh air instead of choking, daunting responsibility makes her feel alive.</p><p><em>She</em> should be at those ruins with Dorian, Solas, and Bull. <em>Instead</em>, she’s trapped in endless meetings.</p><p>The hall is silent, dark, and quiet. She slips through it like a ghost, eye on the flickering light in the rotunda. Her heart twists with a pulse of anticipation, even though she <em>knows</em> Solas won’t be there. Someone merely left a torch lit, and-</p><p>Except, that’s not <em>quite </em>the case. The man at the desk is short, solid, and scratching away at his parchment like he’s got every right to be there. But Varric Tethras always has that aura, a man sure of his place in the world if nothing else.</p><p>“I thought you said you didn’t <em>want</em> an office, Varric.”</p><p>His hands are too steady to spill or blot the ink, but he does still for a moment before pinning her in the doorway with his golden brown eyes. And it’s a <em>bit</em> of an ego boost to get the drop on the unflappable Varric Tethras, she won’t lie.</p><p>“An office would ruin my reputation as the resident loafing dwarf, Princess.” Varric sets his pen down, capping the ink in a set of quick, deft movements. “But the bed was awful lonely without you in it and I figured since nobody was using Chuckles’ desk…”</p><p>“You’d get some use out of it?” she asks, raising a brow. Varric simply leans back in Solas’ chair, smirking her <em>favorite</em> smirk. The same exact one that never fails to turn her knees to jelly.</p><p>“I can think of several uses for it,” he answers, holding one broad arm out in a beckoning gesture she’s helpless to resist. “Come here, beautiful.”</p><p>She saunters across the room, shaking her head, casting her eyes over the papers on the desk. “I need something to do while we’re waiting for this blighted mission to go to hell or be over with.”</p><p>“I’ve got some suggestions.” Varric’s arm snakes around her waist, hauling her between his knees. She allows herself to be dragged, but only because beneath the sharp edge of his desire, there’s something a little wistful.</p><p>Perhaps he’s a little lonely too.</p><p>“Were you down here writing filthy literature for Cassandra?” she scoffs.</p><p>“If I were, I could use some inspiration.” His fingers are already plucking at her blouse, sure of himself and the effect he has on her. “And you’re the best muse, Princess.”</p><p>“Varric-” she murmurs, “somebody is going to see.”</p><p>“Au contraire, Princess.” Varric’s fingers hold still just long enough for him to shoot her a daring grin. “T’was a normal night at Skyhold, and our narrator was smug, because nobody was stirring. Not even a nug.”</p><p>Maria laughs. The sound echoes off of Solas’ paintings, up into the empty rotunda, startles Leliana’s crows into protesting squawks.</p><p>Varric knows he’s won, she can feel it in the surge of desperation between them. His hands sink to her ass and squeeze reverently, pulling her closer. His chin tips up, wordlessly asking for her to bend to his whims.</p><p>But that’s not the game. Not tonight.</p><p>She presses her palm firmly against his chest, shoving herself backwards and slipping out of his grip. He could, she’s sure, hold her tight regardless with the muscles in his arms that make her mouth water.</p><p>Instead, he lets her pull away with nothing but a spark of trepidation in his whiskey eyes. She’s secretly delighted to watch it turn to delight when she leans back and hops up on Solas’ desk. Her legs dangle in the air, but that doesn’t matter.</p><p>Her fingers dive to her breeches, undoing the laces while watching Varric’s eyes darken into a tornado of lust. It’s her turn to smirk down into his face.</p><p>“If you want to fuck me in Solas’ chair, you’re gonna have to earn it.”</p><p>He’s on the same exact wavelength she’s on - when is he not? He’s out of the chair in a heartbeat, on his knees in the next while she perches on the desk. Rough fingers tug at her pants with such force she’s left with little option but to clutch at the edge.</p><p>Before she can complain, he drops his mouth to the delicate skin of her inner thigh, and all she can do is bite back the gasp. His lips are warm, soft, but the rasp of his stubble is a delicious promise that tingles in every nerve.</p><p>He peels her pants down with <em>aching</em> slowness, jaw following in their wake, and normally the anticipation alone is enough to take her breath away. But tonight, with the careening uncertainty of her life, a mission she’s got no control of, the ache of part of their trio <em>missing</em>...</p><p>She doesn’t want slow. She doesn’t want to be teased. She wants to <em>feel</em> and Varric is always the one who can make her do that.</p><p>Her fingers tangle in his soft hair and tug urgently. He lifts his eyes from his steady progress, question forming on his lips, but whatever he sees in her face stops him short. The words die on his tongue at the same time his fingers dig bruisingly into her thighs.</p><p>“No games,” she orders, “your mouth, my cunt, <em>now</em>.”</p><p>One of the best things about Varric, beyond being both the most decent and most dangerous man she’d ever met, is his ability to change track in a moment. Her demands only make his grin more wolfish while he discards her pants over his broad shoulders.</p><p>“Happy to serve, Princess.” Varric drops one last, bruising kiss on the inside of her thigh. She hisses and spreads her legs, dragging him up to where she needs him with a steely grip.</p><p>The touch of his tongue is still enough to make all the breath rush from her lungs. He runs his tongue over her folds like he’s sampling a fine ale. Big hands cup her ass and drag her forward until he’s the only thing keeping her steady.</p><p>She shivers and twists her fingers in his copper hair. “You know what to do, Varric.”</p><p>She feels his laughter against her, a delicious whisper of warm air that makes her nerves sing. Then his tongue circles her clit and all she can do is hold on.</p><p>Varric knows her in a way that’s frankly frightening. His tongue circles her clit until it aches and throbs, then he slips down to drink her arousal from the source. He lets her guide him, but in truth she’s telling him what he already knows. She wants to be pushed, wants to feel the pleasure burn bright and hot.</p><p>And Varric’s tongue sends heat up her spine, then deep into her gut. The pleasure builds until her muscles tense, until she’s rocking back and forth. He changes the angle just the slightest, giving her the friction she needs against her sensitive clit. She knows she’s rutting against his face like a wanton slut.</p><p>She just doesn’t care that much.</p><p>Judging by the moan rumbling against her core, neither does Varric.</p><p>“Fuck-” she stutters, rolling her hips frantically to chase his tongue. “Fuck- Varric. <em>Varric</em>!”</p><p>She catches fire from the inside out, sensation spinning from deep inside her to her fingers and toes, curling her body tight before she snaps. Her cries echo distantly against the rotunda, the whole way up into the tower. Varric lets her jerk and writhe, riding out her pleasure against him until she falls limp and breathless back onto Solas’ desk.</p><p>Something falls off and shatters. She hopes it's Varric’s ink and not something expensive she’s gonna have to replace for her very favorite elf.</p><p>Varric’s breath comes in shaky pants from between her thighs. She props herself up on her elbows and casts her gaze down at his chiseled face, lips slick with the evidence of his skill.</p><p>He looks smug, like he always does, but the desperate desire in his eyes can’t be contained. He’s looking at her like she imagines a starving man may eye a buffet. It’s enough to make <em>her</em> smirk in blatant triumph.</p><p>“Have I pleased my cruel mistress?” he asks, all feigned contriteness that does nothing to soften his mischievous grin. “Or are you going to make me <em>really</em> work for it?”</p><p>“I ought to make you earn your keep,” she retorts breathlessly.</p><p>“I <em>ought</em> to let you explain to Solas how whatever your thrashing just broke ended up broken.”</p><p>“Lucky for me you both love my thrashing.”</p><p>There’s a soft glow in Varric’s eyes that almost extinguishes the turbulent lust. <em>Almost</em>. “It’s some damn fine thrashing.”</p><p>She huffs softly, rising back up on shaking arms. There’s ink spilled across the desk, all over Solas’ papers, and she winces. He won’t be pleased and she’ll have to take <em>special</em> care to make it up to him.</p><p>But they’re already going to have to apologize. May as well finish sinning.</p><p>“Let’s take this damn fine thrashing to the chair,” she pauses. Raises one eyebrow in challenge. “Unless you’re tired?”</p><p>“For you, beautiful?” Varric’s off his knees in a heartbeat. “<em>Never</em>.”</p><p>She tears her own shirt over her head, careless of the ink staining it, and tosses it to the floor. In the time it takes her to do that, Varric divests himself of his own tunic. His hands drop to his pants and the obvious bulge that makes her mouth water.</p><p>He’s barely dropped them before she’s off the desk, shoving him into Solas’ chair. His throaty chuckle becomes a breathless moan, while her hands begin to smooth over the dense muscles of his arms, his chest, the thick and soft hair there.</p><p>She rakes her nails down the muscles, following the hair as it narrows, and the moan turns into a hiss. Desire pulses dangerously in the pit of her stomach and she throws caution to the wind, climbing into his lap.</p><p>There’s a moment of awkward positioning while she tries to find a comfortable angle. Varric’s lips quirk up at the corner. His fingertips brush softly up her spine, a poignant, comforting touch.</p><p>It strums a chord in her she thought had fallen silent. She surges forward to capture his mouth in a greedy, filthy kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything else. She tastes herself on his lips, captures the moan that slips out when his cock rubs against her slick center.</p><p>One hand cups his jaw, holding him to her. The other dives between their bodies, guiding his thick girth along her folds before she begins to sink down onto the generous length.</p><p>He hisses and bucks. A half choked off swear is swallowed by her lips, then another groan as he hammers up into her once before stilling. His hands dig into her lush thighs like he’s holding on for dear life.</p><p>“Easy, Princess,” he pants, “give me a second or else-”</p><p>“No,” she declares, rolling her hips in spite of his steely grip. It’s Varric’s turn to thrash, trying to resist the urge to give into his body’s screaming need to fuck her the way she wants.</p><p>Hard and fast enough to drive every other thought out of her mind.</p><p>“You’re <em>killing</em> me, Maria.” Varric’s already rising to meet her rhythm. Grunting with the effort.</p><p>She laughs against his warm lips. “Only in the best way.”</p><p>His hands circle her waist, helpless to resist. “Have it your way, Princess.”</p><p>She intends to.</p><p>Varric’s hands hold her steady while her hips rock. The delicious slide of his cock in and out, the way his fingers dig into her skin. Her fingers tangle in his hair and hold him to her greedy mouth. His tongue, famously clever as it is, yields to her and the sheer force of her passion.</p><p>She shifts just enough for the next jerk of her hips to grind her sensitive clit against him. When she stutters, Varric growls and pulls her forward again, biting her bottom lip until she gasps. “Don’t quit on me now, beautiful.”</p><p>He hammers into her, chasing their pleasure with reckless abandon. She feels the staggering heat rising again with a violence that’s almost frightening. All she can do is cling to Varric as they rush to the edge.</p><p>She doesn’t know who topples over first. She pulls Varric’s hair reflexively and muffles her triumphant scream in his shoulder. His snarl is almost lost in the rush of blood and the thudding of her own heart. He buries himself into the heat of her and holds her tight while he spills into her until there’s nothing left.</p><p>They collapse back into Solas’ chair in a tangle of sweaty limbs. Varric runs his stubbled jaw over her shoulder to press a delicate kiss to the lobe of her ear. She smooths her fingers down the steady muscles of his arms.</p><p>Her mind is finally, <em>blissfully</em>, empty.</p><p>“Better than your dirty novel?” she whispers against Varric’s neck.</p><p>His low chuckle trails into a matching question. “Better than some dry report?”</p><p><em>Much</em>, but she’s not gonna tell him that.</p><p>A discrete cough comes from the doorway. Maria’s muscles tense and Varric’s hand freezes.</p><p>“Our agents have returned if you are finished with your… report.”</p><p>Leliana can hardly keep the laughter out of her voice, it churns beneath the surface and a matching bubble of it rises in her stomach.</p><p>“So much for the nugs not stirring,” she murmurs into Varric’s ear.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dwarven Spirits</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Maria Cadash is everything Solas could have expected from the best of her Ancestors, and more. </p><p>So much more. </p><p>It’s the only reason he has not formally complained about the debauchery that occurred during his absence. The Inquisitor and Varric had defiled his desk, ruined some ciphered notes detailing his research on weak points around Thedas, and set him back months in his planning. </p><p>And yet, the only thing he regrets is that he was unable to hear their cries echo against the murals of her victories. The ones he painted in her honor. He is owed compensation for his losses and she is there, looking for him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HELLO HERE HAVE A THREESOME WITH FEELINGS.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Solas isn’t sure if he’s pleased to learn that dwarves appear to be as sensual as he remembers or if he’s irritated to find of all the things that have changed in bewildering ways, <em>this</em> chaotic carnal nature is what has remained. </p><p>But from the library where he stands, watching his desk in the rotunda and the small, curvy form with her boots on its surface playing with his favorite quill, he’s more than slightly grateful for the sinful little wiggle as she settles into his chair. </p><p>Maria Cadash is everything he could have expected from the best of her Ancestors, and <em>more</em>. </p><p><em>So much more</em>. </p><p>It’s the only reason he has not <em>formally</em> complained about the debauchery that occurred during his absence. The Inquisitor and Varric had defiled his desk, ruined some ciphered notes detailing his research on weak points around Thedas, and set him back <em>months</em> in his planning. </p><p>And yet, the <em>only</em> thing he regrets is that he was unable to hear their cries echo against the murals of her victories. The ones he painted in <em>her</em> honor. He is owed compensation for his losses and she is there, looking for <em>him</em>. </p><p>He can’t resist her now anymore than he could at any time before. </p><p>“Are you searching for me, Inquisitor?” he calls over the railing. </p><p>She looks up immediately, lips curling into a satisfied smile at the sight of him. “You got back last night and didn’t think to come see me? Was it past your bedtime?” </p><p>“I believe it was far past yours when we arrived,” he answers primly, turning to tuck the tome he had chosen back where it belongs. It can wait. <em>She</em> cannot. </p><p>She laughs. The sound brushes against him like warm, beseeching fingers. His chin turns towards it on instinct. “Is <em>that</em> why I can’t find Dorian? Ancestors. He must have been so grumpy.” </p><p>That is certainly one way of putting it. Solas had restrained himself from throwing the human off a bridge in the Emerald Graves. But it had been a close thing, mostly driven by the desire to <em>not</em> deprive Maria of her dear friend. And then to arrive in the darkest hours of the night to find his hastily neatened desk, an apologetic note full of cheerful half truths, and the echoes of their <em>activities</em> in the Fade… </p><p>He inclines his head to the side. “Would you wish to join me on a walk, Inquisitor?” </p><p>The chair rocks as she leaps from it in one quick movement, scattering his papers once more although none fall to the floor. She saunters to the stairs, and he knows the extra swing in her hips is calculated to draw his eyes, but he can’t help but give in and watch. She moves like sin itself, moves in a way bound to bring every man to his knees for her, and it’s no wonder she has a legion of followers eager to throw themselves into danger for nothing more than the hint of her smile. </p><p>She is dangerous, but when she comes up the stairs with that smile blooming on her pink lips, all that matters is that she is also <em>his</em>. </p><p>He offers her his arm and she takes it like a Dwarven queen of old, small fingers curling into his sweater, and for a moment he can picture a world where he escorts her into the glittering halls of the grandest thaigs. </p><p>“It’s boring with both of you gone,” she complains while they sweep through the library. </p><p>“I’m sure you found ways to occupy yourself.” </p><p>Ways involving his desk, in fact. Even hours after he’d awoken from the Fade, he can hear her urging Varric for more, to fuck her harder in his chair. </p><p>He wishes he’d have been there to silence her, and now he intends to.</p><p>“There’s something empty about the library when you and Dorian aren’t sniping at each other,” she continues.</p><p> She doesn’t look up at him as they slip through the door into the narrow open hallway ringing the courtyard. In fact, she makes a great show of closely examining the doll like figures below them. “And <em>I</em> missed you. We <em>both</em> did.” </p><p>He’s glad she’s not looking because he fears he cannot hide the yawning grief her words inspire. She missed him, they both did, and someday he’ll leave them. He has no choice. </p><p>He should never have given into this weakness. Her gray eyes and their striking ferocity hiding her vulnerability, Varric’s rich laughter and endless stories. He should have left them in their own orbit. </p><p>Instead he’s fallen into it like a <em>fool</em>. </p><p>It's a small comfort that no matter what, they will have each other. And he… he will be left with this memory. Her crimson hair in the sunlight, the catch in her voice, the way her eyes suddenly swing to his when he steers them towards the room Varric still keeps for the illusion of propriety. </p><p>If he is to be left only with memories of this happiness, he wants them to be worth remembering. </p><p>Her smile takes on a hungry edge. “Is Varric joining us?” </p><p>“I believe I am owed a moment of your time for myself.” He raises his brow and delivers the next line with utmost calmness. “Particularly after the… <em>incident</em> that ruined my notes.” </p><p>Her eyes widen and she laughs again. It’s loud enough to draw attention from below, but nobody will be able to see them up above stone walls, especially with her pressing eagerly against him. “Who told you?” she demands. “Leliana?” </p><p>“You have said it yourself, often, that the walls have ears,” he responds cryptically. She rolls her eyes. </p><p>He cannot help but smirk as he reaches for the doorknob, unhooking his arm from her grasp to sink into a bow worthy of Arlathan itself. “After you, <em>aranel</em>.” </p><p>She shivers like she’s heard the dark promise in her nickname, but she makes him wait while she considers him. She taps her finger against her plump lips before she shrugs carelessly. “I <em>did</em> promise to make it up to you.” </p><p>“So you did. Rather generously.” </p><p>She steps across the threshold into the bedroom, her deft fingers trailing across his jaw lightly as she passes. “I can afford to be generous, Solas.” </p><p>She can, for now. And in doing so she’s invited the wolf into her bedroom. </p><p>He shuts the door behind them, leaving them in the dim glow of the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window opposite them. It illuminates her where she stands and casts her in a halo of light that’s more magical than anything he’s seen. </p><p>That is until she raises her sun-drenched fingers to her shirt and begins to slowly unfasten it. “So how should I start?” </p><p>He swallows, eyes fixed on the hands that hold the fate of all his plans, the world itself, within them. Her shirt opens slowly, exposing the globes of her breasts and stays she wears beneath her tunics. </p><p>“If I wished you bare before me?” he asks. </p><p>She bites her lip, but she doesn’t stifle the amused grin. She tugs the shirt over her head and tosses it unceremoniously on the floor. The freckles from her cheeks are scattered against her shoulders and he’s seized by the urge to kiss every single one. </p><p>She turns her back on him and peels her breeches down her thighs along with the thin smalls she wears beneath them, with far more wiggling than is strictly necessary. His eyes feast on her small, voluptuous form and trace each supple curve with unashamed greed.</p><p>She steps out of her boots and breeches and kicks them aside, just before the stays fall to the floor. His eyes follow the line of her spine up to the jaw tipped over her shoulder, ringed in sunlight not nearly as bright as her smile. “And now?” </p><p>He doesn’t answer right away. Instead he strides to the desk where Varric writes his novels and sits in the other man’s chair. It’s only fitting, after all. </p><p>She crosses to him immediately, leans into the space between his legs and places her palms on his thighs. Like this they’re almost the same height and she takes advantage ruthlessly. Her fingers run up his legs, under his sweater, nails scratching at the skin beneath as she lifts it. Her lips are a mere whisper away from his. </p><p>“And if <em>I</em> want <em>you</em> naked as your name day?” she asks. </p><p>He allows her to rid him of the sweater, helping her ease it over his head, but before she can do anything else he wraps both arms around her and pulls her perfect curves up against the lean muscles of his chest. Her lips part on a small gasp just before he captures them ruthlessly. </p><p>Maria doesn’t capitulate to his demands on her. Her tongue slides against his in challenge. Before long he’s kissing her like it’s a competition, kissing her until all he can taste is her, until the only sound is their thundering heartbeats, until finally she makes the smallest whimper. </p><p>It’s a victory, and Solas doesn’t <em>always</em> win this game. He smirks and slowly drags his knuckles up the line of Maria’s back while he breaks their kiss, panting from the effort. </p><p>“Would you give me your mouth, <em>aranel</em>?” </p><p>She huffs, but he sees the pink flush under her freckles plainly. “You’re so <em>sodding</em> formal. If you want me on my knees just say so.” </p><p>He lifts one hand from her back to cup a perfect breast in his hand. His thumb brushes over her nipple until it stiffens to an aching point and she leans into his touch eagerly. It gives him the opportunity to trail his lips over her cheekbones to the delicate shell of her ear. His breath on her skin makes her shudder. </p><p>“I wish you on your knees with my length in your lips,” he whispers, punctuating it with a light pinch on her nipple. “If you are still feeling <em>generous</em>.” </p><p>She hisses and he releases her nipple to soothe it with a soft, gentle swipe of his fingers. She seizes the opportunity to slot her lips against his one more time and it’s his turn to surrender to the fire on her lips, the scorching heat of her desire. </p><p>She slides away from him, trailing sparks in her wake with the kisses she presses down his jaw. Over his throat where she lingers against his hammering pulse, down his chest as she maps each ancient scar from a war she cannot even fathom. </p><p>She has plenty of scars herself. Reminders of blades barely dodged dot her skin, but Solas knows the worst wounds are those that leave no evidence. She carries memories of a man who never learned the word <em>no</em>, the same type Solas remembers from a thousand years before, and he remembers how to handle them. </p><p>Someday, he will rend this <em>Dasher</em> of hers into a hundred pieces and scatter him for the wolves. If he can do nothing else for her, he’ll do <em>that</em>.</p><p>“Solas,” she murmurs. “You’re missing the show.” </p><p>She’s on her knees between his thighs, fingers teasing the laces of his pants, smirking up at him. Her head tips to the side, considering him warmly, and his latent anger melts. He brushes his fingers across her cheek, then slides them into her thick hair. </p><p>“My apologies, <em>vhenan</em>.” </p><p>His fingers are so long they curl neatly around her head, holding her gently in place while she releases his cock. Her hand curls around his length immediately, covering not even half of it, and that very thought makes him throb with greedy want. Her tongue darts out and wets her lips. She shoots him a look to make sure he’s focused on her before she leans in and drags that clever tongue over his sensitive skin. </p><p>It’s his turn to hiss as white hot pleasure follows in her wake. She teases him, as she always does, by exploring every inch of his cock as if she still marvels at the length of it. Her keen eyes watch his every shudder, his every moan, filing away all his weaknesses. </p><p>All the things he should never allow anyone, but <em>especially</em> her, to see<em>. </em></p><p>Then her perfectly warm, soft mouth envelopes him and all thought is wiped from his mind. There is nothing but her, the endlessness of her eyes, the way her tongue darts around him as she slides him inch by inch into her mouth until she can go no further. </p><p>“<em>Maria</em>-” he moans. </p><p>Before he can get another word out, she bobs her head and he almost bucks into her retreating mouth. Before he can mourn her loss, she’s back, driving him to the brink of insanity. She watches him the whole time, his length obscenely between her lips, face flushed and eyes sparkling. He knows if he were to reach between her legs he’d find her slick with desire simply from this act. </p><p>She hollows her cheeks and the slick pressure of her mouth threatens to undo him. The Elvhen falling from his lips hasn’t been heard in more than an age, and it’s <em>pure</em> filth. Half urging her on, half begging for mercy. The only constant is the way her name mixes in with all the words of his people like she belongs there. </p><p>He can’t bear to pull her away with his grip in her hair, but finding the common tongue has never been harder. “Maria- Maria, <em>please</em>.” </p><p>She releases him and licks her lips as if savoring the taste when she does. Her lips are shiny with her saliva and traces of his own arousal. His chest heaves as he gasps for breath, but he can’t help but notice that she is also squirming and panting, as desperate as he for relief. </p><p>“Bed?” she asks, and he’s pleased to hear the slight tremor of frantic <em>need</em> in her voice. </p><p>He nods, not trusting his own mouth to form words. She stands on wobbly legs in a moment, holding out her hand to him. He swears he can smell her arousal in the air, heady as the flowers in the courtyard, and it awakens something reckless and primal inside him. </p><p>Which is the only explanation for why, when his elbow knocks Varric’s carefully stacked manuscript pages askew, he turns and grabs as many as he can before he flies from the chair. Maria’s mouth opens in confusion, but she doesn’t get a sound out before he tosses Varric’s latest draft of Swords and Shields onto his quilt. </p><p>“What are you-” she begins, but it trails off into a startled squeak when one of his arms circles her waist and pulls her down onto the bed with him on top of the crinkling papers. </p><p>“It is only fair,” he whispers against her mouth, “that Varric’s words be stained as well.” </p><p>He captures Maria’s startled, amused exclamation with his mouth before he releases her and rolls onto his side, pulling her back flush to his chest. Her small form tucks neatly against his, as if she were made to fit against his body. The curve of her lush ass drags against his cock and makes him hiss. </p><p>It takes only a moment for him to hook one plush thigh over his, then he’s dragging his length along her drenched folds, listening to her choked moan. The searing heat of her makes him close his eyes and bury his nose in her hair, his free hand slipping beneath her to palm one of her breasts. “<em>Aranel</em>…” </p><p>His moan makes her writhe against him, desperately seeking more friction with each roll of her hips. He allows her to undulate against him softly, rolling her nipple between his fingers until she whimpers. </p><p>Only then does he dig his free hand into her thigh and begin the torturously slow slide into her molten core. Her soft little noises send lances of need through him, but he holds himself rigidly in control no matter how he trembles with restrained lust. There is something about her that makes him fear the way his long fingers curl around her thigh, the way they could wrap around her throat so easily. Solas knows she <em>should</em> be frightened of him, which is why he’s at such pains to shelter her from the beast urging him to claim her <em>ruthlessly</em>. </p><p>Even if it’s snapping at his heels when he hilts inside her, even if she blatantly encourages it with the way she molds to his body with wanton eagerness. </p><p>His groan of satisfaction at burying himself inside her drowns out her own gasp, but doesn’t mask the sound of the doorknob. His eyes fly to it, watching it turn in slow motion. </p><p>In a moment his magic is coiled beneath his skin. If it’s an enemy, or even an innocent interloper, they’ll be nothing but ashes before they cross the room. </p><p>But the form that stands in the doorway is familiar and not unwelcome. Varric’s keen eyes trace the display on his bed, starting at their faces and then silently trailing down their entwined bodies until they find the junction of their thighs where they’re joined. </p><p>His lips quirk up and the door shuts quietly behind him with nothing but the rattle of the lock sliding into place. “And here I thought you both disliked my romance serial.” </p><p>“We’re improving it,” Maria pants. </p><p>Varric’s smile becomes a grin as his eyes finally find Solas’. Solas simply raises an eyebrow in private challenge, daring him to complain of the abuse of his manuscript after the <em>equal</em> abuse of Solas’ desk. </p><p>Like he can read Solas’ expression perfectly, and perhaps concerningly he can, Varric’s expression becomes contrite. </p><p>“Private party?” he asks. </p><p>“We could perhaps extend another invitation,” Solas presses a soft kiss to the crown of Maria’s head and gently squeezes her breast. “If you wish, <em>Aranel</em>?” </p><p>He punctuates his question with a soft thrust, one that steals Maria’s words before she can say them. Instead of responding at all she simply holds out her marked palm, anchor crackling, and Varric takes it without hesitation. He kisses her knuckles just once before sliding onto the bed, pages crinkling beneath his bulk. </p><p>Varric’s large hand captures her other breast at the same time he steals his own filthy kiss from her lips. Beneath his hands, Solas can feel Maria trembling with desire, but he doesn’t trust himself to move. Not until she breaks the kiss with Varric and glares at him over her shoulder. </p><p>“I swear if you don’t fuck me I’ll rip Varric’s pants off and-” </p><p>His control snaps for a brief moment and he roughly thrusts inside her, causing her threat to trail off into another moan that reverberates against Skyhold’s stone. Varric’s eyes glint with deepening arousal and quite a fair amount of amusement as his free hand sinks lower. </p><p>“Patience, Princess. You know Chuckles will take care of you.” </p><p>Solas hides his smirk in Maria’s hair, hushing her bitten off curses while he slowly slides in and out of her exquisite heat. One of Maria’s hands fly to Solas’ neck, holding onto the back of it while the other blindly tangles in Varric’s tunic, her nails scratching at the thick hair of his chest. </p><p>The slow pace he sets is matched by the drag of Varric’s fingers over Maria’s skin until he circles where she’s split around his cock. Varric watches, hungry and intense, like he’ll commit their twisted forms to memory. </p><p>Solas wonders, briefly, if they’ll end up in a dirty novel.</p><p>“<em>Solas-</em>” Maria whines, bucking against his steady pace and the fingers teasing along her folds. “Ancestor’s <em>fucking</em> tits, you <em>always </em>do this. <em>Harder</em>.” </p><p>He groans, shaking his head. “<em>Aranel…</em>” </p><p>“Better give the lady what she wants,” Varric advises, his deft fingers finding Maria’s clit. She cries out again, muffling the noise in his chest. Around his length, she trembles and clenches, a dizzying blend that’s almost irresistible. </p><p>His fingers dig harder into plump flesh that gives under him, that will bloom with his bruises tomorrow. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in the welcoming warmth of her body, to hear her cry out as he takes her like he’s dreamed of, but it’s been so long since he’s let go of control he doesn’t know- </p><p>“Solas!” Maria shrieks. His heart clenches. “Solas <em>please</em>.” </p><p>He has never heard a sweeter sound than that of her begging, and yet he finds there is part of him that cannot bear the thought of it. His self-restraint can survive anything, it seems, except the sound of his name on her lips. </p><p>Solas slams into her, driving all the air from her lungs, but she doesn’t tell him to stop. She scrambles to hold on, her moans becoming frantic, body trembling in his arms. </p><p>As if from a great distance, Solas can hear Varric soothing her, telling her she’s beautiful. Solas would tell him herself, but he can’t summon any words in their common tongue or the Elvhen he spilled earlier. Words are beyond him. Reason is beyond him. He hurtles them toward the edge of the abyss, allows her cries to drive him mercilessly onwards. Distantly, something rattles and crashes to the ground. His magic thrums beneath his skin. </p><p>Varric’s fingers quicken and Maria shatters. He feels her tighten on him like a vice, hears her scream of pleasure over their racing heartbeats. She is warm and flush, shuddering and helpless, and so wet and willing he can’t stop. </p><p><em>He doesn’t want to stop</em>.</p><p>He shuts his eyes tight and falls into the void. For a moment there is nothing except flashing lights he fears may <em>also</em> be his magic and the pleasure that crashes through him like a storm. He collapses, still clutching at Maria like she’s an anchor, while Varric watches him with rapt fascination. </p><p>“Was it strictly necessary to throw the rest of my manuscript on the floor?” </p><p>Solas swallows, but his voice still comes out a rasp. “Perhaps.” </p><p>Between them, Maria giggles, and it’s enough to soften Varric’s expression. Solas watches the other man drop a kiss to her forehead. “Got another one in you, sweetheart?” </p><p>Maria’s soft sigh of contentment says it all, but Solas can’t help but smile at her words. “I could be convinced.” </p><p>Varric chuckles warmly and runs his broad palm over the dip of Maria’s waist, lingering over the curve of her rear. The kiss Varric presses to her neck is slow and insistent. Solas feels her shudder the whole way to where his softening length is still sheathed inside her. </p><p>“Help me out here, Chuckles? I want a taste.” </p><p>That makes both Solas <em>and </em>Maria groan. Gently, Solas shifts so he slips from her warm heat, dragging them both up so he’s propped against the thick wooden headboard and Maria reclines against his chest. Varric watches while Maria hooks her legs over Solas’ thighs, exposing her to his hungry gaze. </p><p>Solas looks over her shoulder, watches his spend leak from within her, and feels the demon of desire within him twitch eagerly. So much for his own appetite being sated. </p><p>Varric slips his tunic off his shoulders, displaying the solid muscles of his arms and shoulders, the thick hair on his chest. Usually, this is where the other man preens, but his eyes are fixed on the wet flesh between Maria’s thighs like a man eyeing a buffet he’s been denied too long. In a dizzying second, Varric is on his stomach and his lying, clever tongue is licking up the seam of Maria’s folds.</p><p>She moans her approval to the ceiling. Both her hands search for Varric’s hair and tangle in the copper locks, a clear order to continue feasting upon her. Solas’ own arms circle her waist while he watches Varric enjoy their mingled taste. </p><p>Varric <em>savors</em> them. He peppers kisses over the inside of Maria’s thighs between long, languid licks that clean her delicate skin. When he’s rid her of external traces of their coupling, his fingers part her folds. Maria gasps softly while his tongue spears her. </p><p>Solas allows his own hands to explore her tempting flesh while she shudders and writhes in his arms. Her nipples are so sensitive that the second he touches them she’s whimpering, hips bucking against the mouth pressed to her core.</p><p>Varric only chuckles and dives in with gusto. There are of course, advantages to Dwarven lovers. Part of that is their stamina, the way that Maria rocks into Varric’s touch with greedy abandon, chasing another peak so soon after her first. It takes less time, her nerves still singing from Solas’ touch, and in no time her moans are falling from her swollen lips like sweet music.  </p><p>Solas growls softly, releasing one of her breasts to guide her chin up. He bends over her shoulder, capturing those soft, needy sounds for his own. She tries to take control, he can feel her desperation in the kiss, the way her hips jerk towards Varric. But Solas refuses to rise to her bait. He slides his tongue slowly against hers, enjoying her as he would a decadent sweet, while Varric’s strength forces her hips to still. </p><p>She is trapped, forced to allow them to serve her as they wish, helpless to her pleasure rising. She whimpers beneath him as he rolls her nipple between his fingers again and Solas distantly hears Varric’s satisfied moan.</p><p>Her body goes rigid before she shatters as beautifully as glass once more. He releases her lips just to stare at her flushed face, sweat damp hair sticking to her forehead, moans endlessly falling from her perfect little mouth. </p><p>“Beautiful,” he whispers to her in his mother tongue. “You are so beautiful, <em>aranel</em>.” </p><p>Her eyes flutter open, dark with want, vulnerable and open in a way they never are for the others. Her trust in him humbles him at the same time it horrifies him. And for one terrifying second, he nearly confesses all. </p><p>“That’s our girl,” Varric murmurs instead. Solas looks down to see him shifting, his breeches undone, thick cock brushing against Maria’s folds already. “Maker’s <em>ass</em> you two are a sight for sore eyes. How I get anything done is a mystery.” </p><p>Maria opens her lips to retort, but it simply comes out another keening cry as Varric stretches her open around his length. She’s loose and pliant in Solas’ arms, melting into his embrace. Varric tips her chin back to him to kiss her delicious lips with the same sort of reverence Solas knows too well. He watches their kiss turn filthy while Maria wraps around Varric, arms and legs anchoring him to her, to <em>them</em>.</p><p>Varric breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to hers, a genuinely delighted smile on his lips. Amber eyes flick over her shoulder to Solas, and the warmth there is enough for Solas to lean forward and taste for himself.</p><p>It is nothing like kissing Maria. The scrape of stubble, wind chapped lips, the taste of Dwarven spirits, are all uniquely Varric. And yet, Solas craves this all the same. His long fingers tangle in Varric’s hair and hold him just as securely as Maria’s hands raking her nails down his back. </p><p>Solas swears he can taste himself and Maria on Varric’s lips and it is more delicious than anything he’s found in his long life.</p><p>“<em>Varric</em>-” Maria gasps against his broad shoulders. “Please, please come inside me. I want you both-” </p><p>Varric’s broken groan against his lips is almost as sweet as Maria’s pleading, as dear as the image of her between them, completely satisfied, filled with both their seed. The next rough thrust steals the words from Maria’s throat and she sobs while she scrambles to hold on. </p><p>Solas steadies her and pulls his lips away from Varric’s to whisper against them. “Give her what she wishes, Master Tethras.” </p><p>“Won’t turn down an invitation,” Varric rasps, snapping his hips and sending their woman keening between him. He slides his broken nose down Solas’ jaw before finding Maria’s ear, catching the delicate lobe in his teeth. </p><p>Solas can feel each brutal stroke in Maria’s body. She bucks into each one, meeting Varric’s challenge with her own. He skates his fingers over her trembling form until he finds the juncture of her thighs and the bundle of nerves he seeks.</p><p>She’s so sensitive that it takes the barest whisper of his touch to send her careening over the edge. She stifles her scream by biting Varric’s shoulder and he grunts, his rhythm faltering, jerking through Maria’s orgasm before he sinks into her one final time, fingers digging into her hips while he empties himself inside her. </p><p>They all collapse backward, a tangle of limbs and soft, gentle kisses. Solas is buried under both dwarves, their warm skin against his more potent than any magic. He can almost imagine he’s encased in their Stone, away from the world he created. </p><p>For a moment, he allows himself to believe he can stay buried. </p><p>“These pages are stained,” Varrc grumbles in between panting breaths. </p><p>Maria giggles sleepily, nuzzling into Solas’ chest while her fingers curl around Varric’s. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Varric. Even <em>I</em> wouldn’t call your romance serial a stain.” </p><p>“At least not aloud,” Solas finishes. </p><p>They both laugh and Solas thinks perhaps he does not mind their debauchery at all. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy holidays from Pornzammar, which can be found at <a href="https://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com/">@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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